Saturday, November 8, 2014

Shopaholic Kyra Mays decides to shop for a rich man on her Jamaican vacation. Instead, she meets Justin Lance, a white reggae singer who’s nearly as poor as the orphans he devotes his life to helping. Overwhelmed by his magnetism, she decides to have a fling with him.

All that matters to Justin is being a perfect Rastafarian. He vows to avoid succumbing to temptation with the dark beauty at all costs. Unable to keep their hands off each other, they forge a bond that is just as emotional as physical as they explore their differences on the lush island of Jamaica. But Justin’s secret will put their ability to compromise through an impossible test.

Afton Locke is a USA Today Bestselling Author who prefers romantic fantasies to everyday reality. Fantasies take her to different times, races, places, and beyond. She lives with her husband, dog, several unnamed dust bunnies, and a black cat that can be scary or cuddly, depending on the current book. When she’s not writing, Afton enjoys hiking, cooking, crafts, and reading.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he whispered.

His hungry gaze bathed her with warmth. Clearly, he wanted her more than he ever had. Telling him she’d experienced poverty earlier must have been the magic words. Ever since, he’d looked at her as if they were on the same team…as if they could have a relationship. But why? What difference did her background make?

Her thighs trembled in response to his heated stare, anticipating the sensation of his tongue on her folds. Instead of lowering his head, though, he looked away, shaking it.

“Am I really doing the right thing?” he asked. “I can justify it by saying I’m giving you pleasure, but I can’t help getting pleasure out of it as well.”

Kyra’s jaw tightened as she cupped a palm over her cleft to hide it. “Justin, this back and forth business is driving me crazy. A little pleasure isn’t going to make the world end.”

“The Rasta way of life is important to me,” he said. “I have to stay true to my faith every minute of every day, not just when I feel like it.”

She sighed. “I respect that. Hand me my pants so I can get dressed.”

Instead, he lowered his head. His blue eyes, clear with his decision, sought hers on the way down. Apparently, he planned to continue. A shiver of anticipation she couldn’t have suppressed if she’d wanted to coursed through her.

“Yes, Justin, yes,” she whispered. “It’s all right.”

He kissed the insides of her thighs first, as gently as he’d massaged her feet earlier. His slight beard brushed her tender skin, igniting icy-hot flames everywhere it touched. Devon used to take her fast and hard. Foreplay was usually as compressed as his busy schedule. Closing her eyes and surrendering to the titillating sensations, she wished Justin had been her first lover.

Maybe her only lover.

He gripped the undersides of her thighs and the bed squeaked as he shifted position. He must mean business. Perspiration broke out across her forehead and she opened her eyes. If he changed his mind, she swore she’d scream.

“I want to feel your hair…on me,” she demanded.

Where had that come from?

Without questioning her strange request, he gripped one of his locks and held it in front of his face with reverence. “Do you know what the dreadlocks signify, Kyra?”

They signify something hot and sexy I want on my body. Now!

“They stand for everything natural and good. No scissors, combs, styling gadgets, or dye touches them. According to the Rasta faith, those things are the work of Babylon.”

Babylon must be the name of her hairdresser because her hair was cut, straightened, and highlighted. Before she could reply, he grasped the end of one lock and brushed it across her mound. It probably went without saying that her bikini wax was also up Babylon’s alley. She watched, breathless, as his hair mingled with the scanty tuft of hers.

Then he lowered the tantalizing lock, brushing it across her clit. She cried out as each of his silky hairs brushed her nerve endings. How could the man be so spiritual one minute and scorching hot the next? The combination was more potent than fire and gasoline.

This Woman's Work by Maxwellhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkeCNeHcmXY
I pretty much had this song on an endless loop while writing the end of the book. The emotional tone matched perfectly, and struggling to make a relationship work is the theme of all romances.

Heaven Must Be Like This by The Ohio Playershttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAxsek1ovkA
Not only is this song romantic and sensual, its lyrics show how the physical can connect to the divine, which I really explored in this novel.

Shopaholic Kyra Mays decides to shop for a rich man on her Jamaican vacation. Instead, she meets Justin Lance, a white reggae singer who’s nearly as poor as the orphans he devotes his life to helping. Overwhelmed by his magnetism, she decides to have a fling with him.

All that matters to Justin is being a perfect Rastafarian. He vows to avoid succumbing to temptation with the dark beauty at all costs. Unable to keep their hands off each other, they forge a bond that is just as emotional as physical as they explore their differences on the lush island of Jamaica. But Justin’s secret will put their ability to compromise through an impossible test.

Kyra sipped her yellow, frosty drink when it arrived, tasting pineapple, rum, and sugar. “Just what I thought. Lame. I told you we should have gone to Grand Cayman instead.”

“But Jamaica has more beauty,” Latasha insisted. “Did you see those mountains as we flew in? I already have ideas for at least ten paintings.”

“You’re such an artist. Grand Cayman has a zillion banks. That’s my kind of art.”

“Maybe we can tour a coffee plantation tomorrow,” Latasha suggested. “I want to see the island from up high, and you could meet a rich plantation owner.”

Kyra grinned for the first time since she’d strolled into this boring bar. “Me and a white plantation owner? I’m not so sure I like the sound of that.”

So why did her thighs clench under her black-and-gold striped sundress? She’d fantasized about getting intimate with a white man, but could she actually do it for real? As long as his money was green, she wasn’t too particular about her dream man’s skin color. It paid to have an open mind.

Both women focused on the stage when the band launched into the next song. The reggae beat drifted through Kyra’s body, washing away the frantic rhythm of her life and replacing it with something slower, sexier…. She found herself swaying in her seat as if rocked by an invisible tide.

In addition to the male lead singer, the band included a guy each on drums, keyboard, and bass guitar. A teenaged male swished a flag around. No white men there. Each had dreadlocks or braids of varying lengths.

Wait a minute. The lead singer had paler skin than the others. He was either mixed race or a white guy with a tan. He was so slim and lithe as he swayed to the music he appeared pretty young. Condensation dripped over Kyra’s fingers as she clutched her glass.

When the lights rotated and swept the stage, she caught a glimpse of blue. The lead singer had blue eyes. Come to think of it, his dreadlocks were brown instead of black and not quite as puffy as the others’ hair.

“I’ll be damned,” she muttered to herself. “He is white.”

“Huh?” Latasha asked.

“The lead singer is white.”

“So?” Her friend shrugged. “I don’t think there’s any rule against white people playing reggae.”

That’s not the point. The point is…he’s hot. Damn hot.

He wore a worn, light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His faded jeans had holes in them and were one step away from the rag bag. Her gaze continued to his feet, finding a pair of biblical-style sandals.

Hardly the rich man she was looking for.

Afton Locke is a USA Today Bestselling Author who prefers romantic fantasies to everyday reality. Fantasies take her to different times, races, places, and beyond. She lives with her husband, dog, several unnamed dust bunnies, and a black cat that can be scary or cuddly, depending on the current book. When she’s not writing, Afton enjoys hiking, cooking, crafts, and reading.

Monday, February 24, 2014

I was tagged to join the My Writing Process blog hop by Sam Cheever. Thanks for including me!

An award-winning author of 50+ books of romantic suspense and fantasy/paranormal, Sam Cheever’s books have won the Dream Realm Award for fantasy and The Swirl (interracial romance) Award; have been nominated and/or won several CAPAs; were nominated for “Best of” with LRC and The Romance Reviews; and have won eCataromance’s Reviewer’s Choice award. She’s published with Ellora’s Cave, both Romantica and Blush; Changeling Press; and Musa Publishing. Sam also publishes as Declan Sands, writing m/m fiction, and under her own imprint, Electric Prose Publications. Visit her at http://www.samcheever.com.

1) What am I working on?

I’m working on Rock My Boat, part of the Tall, Dark & Alpha boxed set, which is releasing March 8. My story is a paranormal novella about a blue marlin shape shifter and takes place on a cruise. Although this is the first time I’ve written something on a deadline (not counting edits for novels I’ve written previously), it’s been a lot of fun! Writing a short piece requires more planning, but it’s also more manageable because it’s short. I also got to hire an editor. I didn’t know what to expect, but it’s been very similar to working with editors in a published house.

Setting is always a strong part of my stories and one of my favorite things to write. I often get inspired while traveling. As part of my polishing process, I spend time on the five senses. When I look at my old unpublished manuscripts, wondering if I can rework them, I usually decide the setting is great but I’d have to start over with everything else.

I also like to read and write paranormal stories with unique elements, which is why I chose to write about a different kind of shape shifter. Although I like to stay tuned to the market, I also hate following the herd. Why write something hundreds of authors have already done so well? It’s more fun to do something new.

3) Why do I write what I do?

I write different genres because I need the variety. When the muse tells me to follow, I know better than to argue. It’s exciting not knowing where he’ll lead me next. (Yes, my muse is a sexy he!) Anything with a good setting is fair game.

4) How does my writing process work?

The hero usually comes to me first. I write the rough draft pretty quickly and always in order. I have a day job, so I’m only able to write on days off, but I do promotion on the other days. Unless I’m attending a writer/reader conference, the only time I really take off from my writing career is when I travel. When I do sit down to write, I make myself write a whole chapter at a time. The first couple of pages take the longest. I play music a lot while I write, and sometimes I’ll play the same song over and over. When the rough draft is done, I do my polishing and layering routine, which takes longer. Starting out, I do a little pre-plotting and create a document with main plot points and scene ideas, but mostly I go by the seat of my pants.

About Afton Locke

Afton Locke is a multi-published erotic romance author who prefers romantic fantasies to everyday reality. Fantasies take her everywhere--from other worlds and races to the top of a corporate desk. She lives with her husband, dog, several unnamed dust bunnies, and a black cat that can be scary or cuddly, depending on the current book. When she’s not writing, Afton enjoys hiking, cooking, crafts, and reading. Visit her at Ellora’s Cave and http://www.aftonlocke.com.

As if to prove his point, he snaked an arm around her waist and yanked her backward. The movement was so sudden, she fell against his chest.

“That was a big sea wave, Ms. Simms, and you weren’t ready.” His stern voice, laced with mocking, scraped her nipples and hardened them.

While she scrambled to get her footing, her lower back accidentally brushed against his crotch. The crisp white fabric of his trousers hid an erection as hard as a pier piling! The swollen lips of her cunt parted inside her panties. Why hadn’t she ever made the time to find the right man and go to bed with him? She must be the world’s only thirty-year-old virgin. Every ounce of her energy had gone into her career.

Her skin blazed under the waistband of her shorts. She needed to be between the hard wall and his equally hard body.

What was going on here? She might be a cruise newbie, but this couldn’t be part of the standard safety procedure. As the CEO of her own company, Simms Creative Advertising Agency, she was well versed in sexual harassment policy and knew he was acting very inappropriately. If she was lucky, he’d lose his job and be sent home before the Trident pulled out of dock.

“You’re the one,” he whispered against her neck, sending another delicious tremor through her.

He didn’t even sound professional anymore. This scene was something out of a bad porn movie.
Gathering her wits despite the flood of hormones surging through her body, she launched herself out of his arms and landed against the wall. After turning around, she leaned against it for support and read his name tag.

“Your behavior is way out of line, Officer Whitney. I’m going to report you.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will.” He thrust his hands into his pockets, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. “You enjoyed it too much.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”
But she didn’t have to. Glancing down, she realized her nipples spoke for her by protruding against her beige blouse. So much for dignity and her thin, useless bra. Straightening her spine, she crossed to the door. Her cunt was so wet it probably needed its own fleet of lifeboats. Before she could turn the handle, his hand closed over hers.

“You’re much too uptight, Rhonda.”

“That’s Ms. Simms to you, Officer Whitney.” She drawled his title as if to tell him how little she thought of it. “I’m warning you. Keep your distance if you don’t want to lose your job.”

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Rock My Boat, my paranormal erotic romance, which is part of the Tall, Dark and Alpha boxed set, will release on March 8th.

Once addicted to the sea, you can’t escape its pleasures.

blurb
Workaholic CEO Rhonda Simms embarks on a Caribbean cruise to create an ad campaign for a big maritime freight client. She finds it impossible to concentrate, however, when Simon Mann, a blue marlin shifter, sets his sights on her. From a private, hands-on safety briefing to a wild ride in the ocean, he rocks her ordered world.

Simon drowned years ago in a shipwreck caused by Rhonda’s client, and he’ll do anything to be a normal man again. As his mate, Rhonda is the only person who can help him.

Tired of being so responsible, Rhonda is ready to let loose with a shipboard fling. Mating with Simon could cost a lot more than her virginity, however. Will she stick to her present course or will she let this sexy alpha rock her boat?

excerpt

He spun her around, locked his arms around her, and pressed her against the railing. Before she could react, his mouth closed over hers. While the railing dug into her back, the stubble on his face scraped her cheeks.

His lips were fiercer than the sea raging below them. When the ship rose over a large wave, his tongue surged in her mouth. The taste held a teasing hint of salt. She sucked on its essence as if she’d been deprived of the mineral her entire life.

She swayed and almost stumbled when he let go of her. He’d been holding her so tightly, her upper arms stung. She didn’t mind a bit. Her seasickness was all but forgotten. Instead, fantasies of being bent over one of the deck chairs while he fucked her whipped through her mind.

He must not have enjoyed the kiss because he looked even worse. Tremors wracked his body, and his face was almost as pale as the moon. After that kiss, she wanted more. The last thing she needed was to have him expire on her balcony.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Do you need a doctor?”

“No. I need…water.” His voice was so hoarse, she could barely understand him.

“Hang on. I’ll pour you a glass.”

“Not to drink,” he said with a gasp. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“I’m not really a pool person.”

He shot a pointed look at the ocean. “I wasn’t talking about the pool.”

She backed away from the railing. “No way.”

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head as he shucked off his clothes. He threw them on the nearest chair until he was down to a pair of snug-fitting briefs. What was going on? One minute he looked sick and the next he was undressing? She was not in the market for a one-cruise stand, but if she was, she expected a little more foreplay.

“Your dress can stay on, but the shoes come off.” He lifted her, seating her on the railing, and pulled her shoes off.

He makes your heart pound and
melts your resistance away. He promises you a world of passion and you find it
impossible to resist his dark charm. When he catches your eye across the room,
you know he means business. He could be an executive, cop, shape shifter, or a
bad boy looking for a little fun. Once he has you in his sights, you can't get
away—and after one sizzling night in his arms, you won't want to. He’s Tall,
Dark & Alpha. The alpha male is the ultimate indulgence…the richest dark
chocolate…and we’re offering him to you in abundance.

Friday, January 10, 2014

One of the reasons Carlos is a sexy alpha man is that he won't let Janice give up on him. She has her doubts about having a relationship with a young stripper, but it's hard to doubt when an alpha decides he wants YOU!

ExcerptEmotion I
can’t control surges through me, so I put up my right hand to shield my face
from him. He yanks it down.

“What we
had is not cheap. It was just as special to me as it was to you. Would I be
here right now losing money if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“Okay, maybe
you let those other women feel you up just for the money. Doesn’t that make you
a male whore?”

I clap my
shaking hand over my mouth, shocked by my own cruel words. Why am I being so
vicious? When I first met him, I didn’t mind that he was a stripper. It just
made him sexier. Now that I’ve seen his world, though, I don’t see a place in
it for me.